


The Donkey-fluffer and the Dumbass

by knightinpinkunderwear



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Breakfast, Coffee, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cussing, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Jokes, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Language, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Inappropriate Humor, Jokes, Kissing, Lazy Mornings, Love Bites, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Neck Kissing, Pancakes, Past Violence, Sappy, Season/Series 02, Serial Killers, Sexual Humor, Sharing a Bed, Silly, Spooning, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinpinkunderwear/pseuds/knightinpinkunderwear
Summary: Dexter gets in trouble with his sister and his boyfriend for pulling his FBI security detail.
Relationships: Dexter Morgan/Vince Masuka
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this as a one-shot but I think I might add a second chapter for their day in, who knows?

"Do you think Doakes could really be the butcher?" Vince Masuka; hypochondriac, pervert, and boyfriend asks.

"It's not about what I think, it's about the evidence," Dexter hums, non-committal, brushing a pair of pants for evidence that will not be there because Doakes isn't the butcher.

"All those times he called me lab geek, fairy winkle, or donkey-fluffer... I'm just glad I took it lying down," Vince says, flipping the shirt over to look for trace evidence elsewhere on the fabric. 

"Does that make me the Donkey?" Dexter wonders aloud after a minute.

"You do have a great ass," Vince smiles, enjoying Dexter's almost sexual joke, leaning back theatrically to give aforementioned ass a look-see. Dexter chuckles under his breath, such is the life dating Vince Masuka.

He doesn't even mind the fact that many of Vince's sex jokes are about him. They aren't really that gross, and none of them are meant to insult him or imply that murder scenes arouse him (unlike the comments Doakes has made). And Dexter thinks that they are just a method for Vince to compliment him in a way that doesn't feel vulnerable. Which Dexter can understand, vulnerability is not easy for him either.

The door opens, it's Deb, she looks pissed, for whatever reason that she will no doubt soon make known.

"Fantastic, now I need to bleach my ears and eyes, fucking thanks for that Masuka," Deb remarks tersely, rolling her eyes as she closes the door to the lab with more force than necessary. 

"What's got you in a bitchy mood?" Vince asks turning to look at her, still holding one of the former Sergeant Doakes's shirts.

"Your dumbass boyfriend and my dumbass fucking brother decided to pull his fucking protective detail," Debra snaps, and Dexter winces.

"You did what?" Vince turns and flips up the magnifying visor to give him the stink-eye. He feels like an inch-worm under the scrutiny and harsh light of a microscope.

"It's- I-" Dexter tries to start, only to be promptly interrupted by his very agitated little sister. 

"You're motherfucking dumbass if you think Doakes won't try to attack you now," Deb chews him out. 

"Gonna have to side with your sister on this one," Vince nods. Which isn't fair because he hoped that his boyfriend would side with him, but it also is fair because his boyfriend is a good boyfriend and worries about his safety.

"There's a city-wide manhunt on him, he won't be able to get anywhere near me," Dexter tries, knowing that it is a weak excuse. Unfortunately, he doesn't have anything better. 

"Doakes tried to beat you to a pulp in the middle of the bullpen in front of every cop in Miami, just because his picture is in the news doesn't mean he can't find some way to get at you, and I don't think my gun will help much against an ex-special ops guy," Vince chews him out.

"That better not be an innuendo," Deb made a face. 

"I can take care of myself, and no, Deb he's got a real gun," Dexter shrugs.

"Who the fuck sold you a gun?" Debra asks, incredulous and turning to Vince. 

"I know right? They got low standards," Vince laughs, and Dexter has hope that the conversation will veer off on that tangent. "-but seriously Dexter?" Vince turns back to him, _fuck_. 

"Yeah, that's what you're going with? I have to move out into my own apartment to stay safe away from your detail but you can get them to go and leave you on your own?" Deb shouts. "I gotta just let you be on your own and you probably won't even let your boyfriend come near either, I mean he probably won't be a good shot--no offense Vince,-" 

"None taken," Vince replies.

"But we just gotta trust you to defend yourself against a killer who's _already_ attacked you in broad fucking daylight in front of every fucking cop in fucking Miami?" Deb finishes.

Dexter shrunk under the judging glares of his boyfriend and sister. _Damnit_. It would be so much harder to get Doakes food at the cabin if he still had to dodge his FBI groupies. 

But they were bringing up good points, or they would be if Doakes was actually the Bay Harbor Butcher and actually on the loose. But it wasn’t like he could tell them the truth. 

Why did life have to be so complicated? He thought he'd gotten past the most confusing and tiring life could get while unknowingly hunting down/having kind of correspondence with a killer who turned out to be the brother he didn't even know he had. But no, now he had to be under investigation by the FBI and have his little sister dating the lead FBI investigator. Who had to be about as old as their dad, but he wasn't allowed to say anything because he was dating Masuka (nevermind that Vince was only two years older than him).

He supposed sneaking around the protective detail again could work. But he really needed to fucking sleep at some point in the immediate future. And taking off work seemed like a bad idea now with everything and how fast the case was progressing. He needed to be there to continue to push it in the direction of James Doakes if he wanted to continue to operate and not be apprehended.

"Fine I'll talk to Lenny again, if he's mad I'm blaming both of you,"

"You were assaulted by a suspected serial killer, Lenny can go fuck himself," Deb calls behind her as she leaves the lab.

Dexter goes back to combing for trace evidence he won't find. Vince doesn't move.

"Okay, what's the real reason?" Vince asks.

"Huh?"

"The real reason you called off your safety detail,"

"I'm pretty sure I just gave you the reason," Dexter responds, trying to escape the direction the conversation was heading. He didn't feel much like weaving a truth lie. 

"Quit bull-shitting me, I've known you for more than a decade," that may have been true but Vince didn't really _know_ him and that was for the better. He didn't need to see the darkness and the monster in Dexter. It wouldn't be good for anyone involved. It was better if that monster remained in the darkness, obscured by shadows.

"I like my privacy, I'm not used to always having so many people around, it makes me feel... on-edge,"

"You like being around the same people," Vince points out. He's not wrong, everyone on the bowling team are his coworkers, his friends are his coworkers, his family and boyfriend are his coworkers. 

"Yeah, but usually I can go someplace without people and be by myself," 

"Is this really about being alone? Or is it about who you're with? Because you work with your sister and your boyfriend and let's be honest you don't really have friends outside of work, so you see us all the time," 

"But I know you and Deb, and-"

"We both know you?" Vince finishes, the magnifying visor still perched, flipped up, precariously above his forehead. 

"Yeah," Dexter breathes, "the last time a coworker followed me around everywhere it was Doakes and you know how he had it out for me since forever," 

Vince listens, watching with a gaze that didn't feel heavy or glaring. It almost felt gentle, and it did feel patient. It was... comforting. 

"I guess I'm worried they'll see whatever he thought he saw and decide to hate me too," 

"Wait, are you saying that Doakes was following you before this shit happened? Tailing you around like a detail?" 

_Shit_. He maybe shouldn't have said that. Wasn't one time enough chewing out for one day? 

"He was stalking me, yes," There was no getting out of this now.

"That's fucking... Why didn't you _tell me_?! Did he follow you to my place?!-- _No_ , don't answer that!-- Did you at least report him?" Vince tore off his magnifying visor and almost tore off his glasses in the process, he quickly righted them, tossing the visor and Doakes's shirt into the pile on the desk in front of them.

"I tried to," 

"But?" Vince prompts with a pointed look.

"LaGuerta told me to hold off," 

"Why the fuck did she do that?" Vince blinks, shaking his head.

"They're friends or something?" Dexter shrugs, even he didn't really get why she'd done it.

"That's no fucking excuse. _God!_ Dex! _No wonder_ you pulled your tail! Not that you should've," Vince swears again. "Too much shit is happening, we need a break, you definitely need a fucking break don't try to get out of it,"

"Not trying," Dexter raises his hands in surrender. Still holding the comb and pants and probably looking like an idiot.

"How about we leave early and crash at yours or my place and stay home tomorrow?"

"Tonight? That's not exactly the best time," Dexter starts, Doakes will be needing real food and water at the cabin and he isn't planning on letting the man die of dehydration or starvation, it would still be very much against the code.

Vince sighs, disappointed.

"-But why not go home early tomorrow and take Friday off?"

"Alright tomorrow night and Friday, you can't back out now," Vince points his finger at him with a look that is supposed to be mildly threatening, but Vince is a non-threatening person, so it is largely unsuccessful. 

"Or what, you'll spank me?" Dexter jokes, biting back his prideful smirk.

"You bet your ass I will," Vince chuckles in that weird and uniquely Vince way, face splitting into a huge grin. Dexter laughed to himself, smiling.

A day in with the boyfriend sounded nice, especially since Vince was patient and doting enough to let him sleep or lay next to him all day. If nothing else he'll get to give and receive bad jokes all Friday without the judgment of others and without grossing out Deb. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like me to add a chapter 2 please let me know, if you do want chapter 2 there will be cuddling but besides that, you can request/suggest activities for them to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddling because you all (and also me) wanted it.

Dexter swore, thankful that this would be the last time this week that he had to sneak out his bathroom window to feed Doakes. He'd gotten rid of the GPS things in the minivan (which Vince was still teasing him over) and his boat. 

It didn't take too long to get to his boat and get back to the cabin's dock. Three hours, but it wasn't like he was unaccustomed to late nights. He'd be lucky to get a handful of hours of sleep tonight. But that was alright. He'd survived on less than that before.

And he was going home early tomorrow and Vince was promising chocolate deserts or coffee. Dexter didn't care which one it ended up being, he liked both.

Vince's espresso machine was fancy and the homemade white-chocolate mocha latte Vince had made him that one time was good enough that Dexter regularly considered exchanging some sexual act as payment or thanks for one.

Doakes wasn't happy to see him, but that wasn't new. He tried to talk Dexter out of framing him as the sedditive took effect. Which wasn't going to happen. Dexter had Debra and Vince and Rita and her kids to worry about. He just got clear sets of Doakes's prints on several kill tools and set some non-drugged water and food nearby, then made sure that the cage thing was secure. 

He found a phone that the Sergeant tried to hide. He pulled the sim card and battery out. 

He was against the current on the way back. The night was dark and still disgustingly humid, with only the barest chill in the air.

He dumps the kill tools where they'll be found by a junior dive class. 

He snuck back into his apartment at 3:11 AM. It was still gratingly uncomfortable to get in and out of that window with the wound in his leg.

After quickly redressing the bullet grazing in his thigh (which he explained to Vince as a result of squeezing past a rusty fence, to which Vince made him pull up his immunization records to prove he'd recently gotten his tetanus vaccine). 

Then Dexter Morgan got to collapse in bed for a few blissful hours of sleep. 

Thankfully there were not any dreams. Just refreshingly empty blackness for an indistinguishable time then there came the real morning. With Miami sunshine and five FBI groupies pounding on his door.

Dexter groaned, throwing on a random shirt and pair of pants to answer the door. 

"What?" He answered, opening the door forcefully, it catches on the chain. He was definitely feeling the morning and lack of sleep taking its toll on him. 

"Just making sure you're okay, Mr. Morgan," his least favorite FBI groupie responds. 

"Were you sleeping?" Another asks. 

"I was trying to," he grumbles. 

Work isn't much better. He asks Deb about Harry Morgan and why Doakes might have said that thing but decides it might just be a dead end. Whatever it was it could wait for the weekend or Monday. It was a bad morning. So many people and so many things to do. Even the lab wasn't safe, there was still the three FBI techs who didn't actually listen to him or Vince nearly as much as they should, especially since they'd been there for twelve or more years and that Vince was still technically the Lead Forensic Investigator.

Mornings with Vince were easier than any other type of morning, Vince was a little like him, a little bit empty, a bit numb and relatively unfeeling. He doesn't need to pretend as much with Vince.

He doesn't have to censor his morbid sense of humor or pretend to be upset by the deaths of complete strangers. He didn't enjoy the death of innocent people, he just didn't have any negative emotions or reactions to corpses, (except maybe it if were a child).

Finally he could get some sleep and some time to relax. 

He was really looking forward to it.

Deb only teases and calls him a slacker twice. But she seems to approve of the idea of taking a break with everything hectic going on. 

He and Vince escape work before 4:30 pm, just in time for the start of Miami rush hour traffic. 

Dexter drives his own car to Vince's, he doesn't want to find out what trouble could come with leaving it in the precinct parking lot. Not with his recent luck. 

Vince really doesn't enjoy having the FBI groupies check his apartment for Doakes and other safety related concerns. They give his chupocabra thingy a few weird looks, which Dexter thinks is understandable. At least they don't try to take his pistol.

They have some Vietnamese take-out that's just around the corner and down the street and watch some Project Runway (not that Dexter has any idea of what is going on, he usually finds reality TV to be confusing). 

Vince offers to give him a massage, which turns out to have a lot more kissing and groping than he assumes is normal for a massage. But Dexter knew before coming that most trips to stay at Vince Masuka's involved leaving with hickeys and love-bites. And it wasn't like Dexter wasn't complicit and an active participant in the groping and kissing. 

Thankfully, they weren't loud enough for any of the FBI detail to barge in expecting a threat to their safety. Dexter was sure he wouldn't be able to live through that sort of embarrassment and encroaching on his personal life.

* * *

He wakes up being spooned by Vince Masuka. Which, Dexter thinks, is a nice way to way to wake up in general. Even though, or especially since Vince sometimes decided to hold him hostage in bed and tickle the back of his neck with barely-there kisses. (A hostage situation he could easily escape if he actually wanted to).

Sure enough, a pair of arms tighten around his stomach and open mouthed kisses are pressed to the back of his neck, where the vertebra push out of his skin, breaths tickling the hair at his nape. 

He wonders how Vince still has circulation in the arm he'd managed to get under Dexter's torso.

"Good morning," Dexter says, craning his head around to look at his boyfriend in the morning Miami sun. 

Vince presses another kiss to his cheek, mumbling something against his skin. 

The warmth of sunlight and a body against his Is almost uncomfortable and sticky. 

He can already feel his back start to sweat. But he could not find any real desire to move. 

"You're going to loosing feeling in that arm,"

Vince shushes him. 

"Fine, but don't blame me when you get pins and needles," he chuckles, his chest feeling warm with fondness. 

"So long as you make me pancakes," Vince murmurs, face still pressed against his neck, warm breath tickling the beginning of sweat. 

"Are you making me coffee?" He bargains, already craving the mix of white chocolate and espresso. And preparing himself to bribe with physical affection if necessary. 

"Five minutes," Vince promises, nuzzling closer. Dexter smiles. He needed this. A nice and slow morning. 

Which is why he should have expected the interuption.

A knock sounds from the door. Dexter groans and he can feel the scowl forming on his hypochondriac boyfriend's face. 

Another three knocks. It's the FBI detail or a rude neighbor. Either way, Dexter would like to open the door and immediately slam it in their face. 

"Mr. Morgan?" Comes a muffled voice with another three knocks. 

Vince lets him free with a grumble and a scowl, he gets up too, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and muttering darkly about FBI conspiracies and cock-blocking.

Dexter has a little satisfaction in answering the door wearing only his boxer-briefs and one of Vince's weird silk robes with tigers and dragons on it. The least they can pay him back for interrupting is being made uncomfortable. His satisfaction grows as each FBI groupie notices the hickey on his neck and watch as they have to once again mentally address that he's spent the night with _his boyfriend_. 

He isn't sure if they're mildly homophobic or if they just don't like thinking about people possibly having sex while they're following them around and standing outside their apartments in the middle of the night. He doesn't care either way. 

The guilt for making him get up sets in on their faces as they introduce the morning shift of groupies so he knows who is supposed to be keeping him safe from Doakes. 

After a few minutes with mildly uncomfortable and cowed FBI employees Dexter is allowed to close the door and escape back to the safe haven that Vince's apartment has become. 

Vince starts the espresso machine wearing only shorts and a zebra-print thong. Dexter smiles despite himself and starts on the pancakes (with extra bananas). 

Vince eats his pancakes slathered in Nutella and drinks his espresso latte plain. Dexter has his banana pancakes plain and his latte with white chocolate syrup. 

"I like my chocolate on my pancakes and you like it in your coffee," was Vince's explanation when he'd watched the bald man plop the spread on his breakfast. 

After the dishes are set to dry in the dishwasher (Dexter wonders if anyone actually uses them to wash dishes) he pulls Vince into the shower. 

Lukewarm water peals the excess heat and the sticky sweat from their bodies and feels almost as cleansing as the rain. 

Then they get dressed and settle on the couch. 

Vince reads articles from Forensic Quarterly to him and he hums at the interesting parts, with his head in Vince's lap and Vince's left hand carding through his hair. 

Lunch is quick sandwiches. 

In the afternoon they watch Animal Planet laying against each other. Even later they play strip poker. (Lesson learned: Vince never bluffs). 

Dispatch never calls them in for a new body. It seemed Miami was occasionally capable of small miracles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any more suggestions/requests for these two?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> 


End file.
